


A Hug for the Hopeless

by jennabrooke



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post Hale Fire, Stiles is just a sweet kid that knows when someone needs a hug, and Derek really needs a hug right now okay?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 18:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11468883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennabrooke/pseuds/jennabrooke
Summary: Tragedy strikes the town of Beacon Hills and Stiles is there in the middle of it all to give a small bit of comfort to a boy who seems to be in desperate need of it.





	A Hug for the Hopeless

On the nights that Stiles stayed with his dad while he worked at the station, he would usually prowl around for a while, let one of the deputies help him with his homework, and fall asleep on the small leather couch in John's office while he waited to be taken back home. And on those particular nights, Stiles could usually expect to be woken up by a gentle prodding before being sleepily led out to a car, only to pass out again in the front seat on his way back home. It was a nice system. Constant and solid.

There was one night, however, that didn't quite work out that way. One night that hadn't shaken Beacon Hills to its core in such a way before, at least not in recent memory.

The night started out normally enough, right up to the point that Stiles fell asleep on the couch like clockwork, his cheek smushed against the arm of the couch with his mouth hanging open, drooling ever so slightly. Later on, he wouldn't be able to remember for the life of him what he'd been dreaming but he could swear it had something to do with an ostrich rodeo. Oh this night, Stiles woke up not to a deputy's gentle poking but by the hurried scuffle of people outside his office and the not so distant sound of sirens outside the station and heading away.

"Wha's goin' on?" He asked in a slurred and sleepy voice as he rubbed his eyes and started to sit up, as if he expected his dad to still be in the office. As he wandered out of the office, blinking his eyes at the lights and the sight of people rushing around, it took him a while to actually get an answer out of anyone. But when he did, it felt like he'd been dunk in a tub of ice water. "There's been a fire."

Stiles trembled slightly for the next hour or so while he sat in his dad's chair in his office and waited for him to come back, as he waited to know if he was okay or not. If anyone was okay or not. When he saw John's figure step into the doorway, Stiles practically jumped over the desk itself to get to him, his arms wrapping around his middle in a tight hug. He smelled like smoke, but he was okay. That's all that mattered.

"Hey, bud," John said in a tired voice, hand rubbing the back of Stiles' head as he hugged him before gently pushing him back so he'd let go. "Derek, you can have a seat right there." Until that point, Stiles hadn't even noticed that there was a boy standing next to his dad. An older boy, definitely, but still a boy.

As he wordlessly moved over to the couch, Stiles took the opportunity to look him over. He was dirty, with patches of black and grey soot and ash on his clothes, which really just looked like he'd set them on fire a bit with how singed they were. He smelled more like smoke than his dad did and there were tear tracks on his ash-dirtied cheeks. He never met anyone's gaze, and instead always looked either straight ahead or down at the floor and it didn't take a genius to figure out that he'd gotten out of whatever fire had happened.

Honestly, Stiles had no idea what was really going on, and wouldn't actually know for sure for quite a few hours, but this kid looked completely wrecked and there was a very large part of him that needed to do something to make him feel at least a tiny bit better.

"Hey, Stiles, why don't you sit here with Derek for a minute while I go get some paperwork?" John asked gently, his hand resting on Stiles' shoulder with a pleading look on his face.

Stiles  nodded reflexively; how could he even say no to that? "Yeah, Dad. I'll stay with him," he said and watched his father leave the office before turning his eyes back to the boy on the couch. Derek. The silence in the office was tense and Stiles felt the need to break it somehow, though he had no idea what to even do or say. God, this dude looked like he needed a hug.

Which… wasn't a bad idea, actually. Hugs were good. Everyone could use more hugs.

So Stiles hugs him. And not just that one-armed, awkward, we-don't-know-each-other-but-I-feel-morally-obligated-to-hug-you kind of hugs, either. Stiles wordlessly pushed into Derek's space and wrapped his arms around his shoulders and _hugged_ him, much in the same way he'd hugged his own father. It was the sincere and desperate sort of hug that said, "Thank God you're okay." And though they didn't know each other from the man in the moon, Stiles meant that hug with everything in him, because he was glad Derek was okay.

For a moment, Stiles didn't think Derek would hug him back. Which, okay, that was understandable considering the circumstances. But then he felt arms wrapping around himself in return and suddenly Derek was hugging him just as tightly, like he wasn't ever going to let go again. But eventually he did release Stiles from his grasp and sniffled pitifully as he wiped his eyes, then looked up at Stiles for the first time. "Thanks," he said softly, voice just a bit scratchy and rough.

Stiles nodded and shrugged his shoulders as he took a step back to give Derek a little space, an almost sheepish smile on his face now. "You're welcome." After all, what else was there to say after hugging someone like that when you don't even know them?

After that, John came back and sent Stiles home with another deputy as usual, though he heavily objected on the grounds that Derek obviously needed someone to stay and comfort him, but his dad was having none of it.

Stiles didn't see Derek again after that night. Not for another six years. But when he did see him, though he looked older, Stiles still recognized those same eyes that had welled up with tears after their hug and there wasn't a doubt in his mind who stood just a few dozen yards away from himself and Scott while they searched for Scott's inhaler. "Dude, that's Derek Hale."

**Author's Note:**

> sooo this is like the first sterek fic i've ever written, which is totally cool. inspiration struck and i got this out in like an hour and i'm surprisingly proud of it so comments are greatly appreciated :) <3


End file.
